The Invention
by Vaughntronic
Summary: Merlin introduces Arthur to a new invention.


**AN:** I do not own Merlin.

**AN:** Written for Wil1969 on The Heart of Camelot as part of a Christmas Wishlist event.

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><p>"Merlin." The Prince's sharp eyes were fixed on a foreign object laying on his breakfast table, and his eyebrow twitched upwards.<p>

_No answer..._

"_Mer_lin," the prince tried again, still looking at the odd implement.

"Hmm," Merlin responded distractedly and his voice came off muffled.

Arthur finally tore his eyes off the object and looked for the source of Merlin's distanced voice. His eyes landed on a bony backside sticking up in the air, Merlin's head buried underneath the royal's bed.

"MERLIN!"

_Thwack_!

Merlin had clearly hit his head on the thick wooden frame on the underside of Arthur's bed.

Arthur smiled gleefully.

"OW! What!?" Merlin responded though he did not emerge from his strange position.

Satisfied that he had his servant's attention, he reached out and picked up the object, turning it in his hands. It was a very long bit of carved wood, thin, that was smoothed and highly polished. One end expanded out into a large, round, ball. The other end was fashioned into what Arthur could only call a 'claw'.

"What is this?" The prince continued to inspect the object.

"What's what?" Merlin responded, still not emerging, though he shifted awkwardly.

"This," Arthur responded though he knew full-well Merlin could not see what he held.

"Arthur," Merlin deadpanned. "I can't see what you're looking at."

Arthur again turned his eyes to the protruding backend of his servant. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Catching a rat."

"I thought you already caught the rat. You know... The one you fed me?" Arthur's face had gone a bit sour at the memory, until he remembered Merlin hunched over the bowl taking a revenge bite... Or six. The Prince smiled to himself.

There was silence for a beat before Merlin's muffled sigh of exasperation floated up from under the bed. "Right because there is only one rat in all of Camelot, and I offed him years ago."

Arthur huffed in response. "And how is you being half-shoved under my bed going to catch a rat?"

"I'm setting a trap." Merlin's knees shifted uncomfortably, his body bending more.

As much as the royal loathed the idea of lowering himself to the floor, he found is irritation and curiosity far to great not to see this grand trap that Merlin was preparing.

He moved to the other side of his bed and dropped onto his knees, bending and lifting the loose duvet hanging over the edge to peer under.

He was just in time to see Merlin tying a long string to a cylinder of wood that he had used to prop up one end of a wooden box. Just inside the opening of the box was a nibble of cheese.

"Is that from my breakfast?" The Prince asked, incredulous.

"Yep." Merlin's eyes flicked to Arthur's on the other side of the bed, and he offered a large grin.

"You can't be serious."

"Why? Want it back?" Merlin's grin widened as he wiggled his way out from under the bed's frame, but still remained crouched holding the string in his hands.

Arthur took in all the dirt and grime underneath his bed and cringed. "Don't be stupid, Merlin."

"Didn't think so. Now, get away from there. I don't want your face terrifying the rat."

Arthur rolled his eyes as he let the duvet drop back down and stood up. "What about your face? If mine would terrify it, yours would kill it. You've clearly wasted your time on that crude trap. You should just stare at it."

When Merlin didn't grace the insult with a response the Prince asked; "What makes you think the rat is in here, anyhow?"

Merlin responded by feeling around under the bed until he found Arthur's left boot, and rather than sitting up, and taking his eyes off the trap, he threw the boot in the direction of the royal's voice over the top of the bed.

Arthur had to dodge left, but he still managed to snatch the projectile out of the air with a quick-reflex grip before it hit the floor.

He found that the worn leather had been chewed through. Again.

"What is with these stupid rats and my boots?" Arthur grumbled as he poked a finger through the hole.

"I suspect they are suicidal."

Merlin could sense the raised eyebrow on Arthur's face rather than see it, so he further clarified: "Any creature that willing bites into your manky old boot obviously wants to die and long and painful death."

The Prince's lip twitched, and he was thankful Merlin missed it.

"Are you going to stay crouched there all day waiting for the rat to appear, then?"

_No. I am waiting for you to actually leave so I can just enchant the stupid trap to work._

"That's the idea."

At this Arthur strode across the room and gripped Merlin by the back of his shirt and neckerchief ignoring Merlin's squawk of protest at the sudden change in position. He quickly dropped the string before he inadvertently sprung the trap.

It took him a moment to right himself and jerk free of Arthur's fingers. "Prat."

Arthur, just turned on his heel and strode back to the table. "I don't pay you to lie around on the floor all day playing with rodents."

"Fine. Don't come crying to me when it skitters across your face in the middle of the night." Merlin grumbled petulantly.

The Prince's mouth dropped open slightly and he suppressed a shudder before ignoring the thought completely in favor of picking up the object that had initially grabbed his attention.

Merlin had followed him to the table, brushing off his hands before he set about picking up the Prince's morning dishes.

Arthur held the object up towards Merlin's face. "What is this?"

Merlin backed up a pace to get a better look. "Oh! That! It's a new invention," Merlin said brightly with one of his excitedly blinding smiles.

"An invention," Arthur repeated, looking the object over, entirely uncertain about its function.

Merlin nodded enthusiastically. "It was Gwaine's idea, actually. I just carved it. Well, sort of. Gwaine mostly did that part too, but I did help!"

Arthur continued to study it and was about to ask what it was for before a suddenly disturbing image formed in his mind, looking at the clawed end and the then at the bulbous end. _It was Gwaine's idea_.

Arthur dropped it back to the table with a clatter and rubbed his hand over his black trousers. "Oh Gods... Please tell me that is not some sort of... Of..." The royal was gesturing aimlessly and turning an interesting shade of red, as he backed away from the offending object.

Merlin's smile stretched the entire span of his face at his Master's reaction, reveling in the obvious horror and discomfort that was currently residing there.

He allowed himself at least 6 more seconds of blush-y and dumbfounded Arthur before he spoke up. "It's a back scratcher and massager, _Sire_." He said this with as much chastisement as he could muster, only barely holding back laughter.

Arthur blinked twice at Merlin before looking again at the object that Merlin was now picking up.

"Oh," he breathed - too relieved to formulate a snappish comeback.

Merlin chuckled and demonstrated how to use each end to scratch or massage sore muscles.

"It's for you." Merlin held it out to him. "The Royal Backscratcher!"

"I don't want a royal backscratcher. It'll make me look ridiculous."

"Right. So nothing will change then."

"Merlin," Arthur warned.

"Sire," Merlin didn't care.

"If I want my back scratched, I will just make you do it."

"Ew, no way. I already have to wash your grime off, I don't want to have to rake my nails through it too."

The royal spluttered in a very non-princely way. "I am not grimy."

"You're absolutely gross after you've been training. Besides, it is a massager too, so you can get at your sore muscles when they ache."

"And what are you going to do once this... Thing... Has taken over for your duties?"

"Lay on the floor and play with rodents. Naturally."

Merlin set the object on the table and went back to clearing away dishes.

When he turned to close the door, he snorted at the site of the Prince awkwardly trying to twist the thing behind him to scratch at his shoulder blade with a frown of concentration creasing his brow.

"Don't strain yourself, Sire. Or, well, if you do, be sure to use the other end."

Merlin closed the door just in time for the backscratcher to clatter against it.


End file.
